


Retribution

by schweet_heart



Series: Bond Fic [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: “You certainly took your time.” He’s trying not to sound relieved, but it’s a losing battle. Being tied to a chair by gun-toting lunatics is, strangely enough, not exactly the most comfortable of experiences to endure. He much prefers it when the gun-toting lunatic is onhisside.





	Retribution

**Author's Note:**

> New to writing for this fandom, still testing the waters. Please be kind? :)

 

“Bond.”

 

“Q.”

 

“You certainly took your time.” He’s trying not to sound relieved, but it’s a losing battle. Being tied to a chair by gun-toting lunatics is, strangely enough, not exactly the most comfortable of experiences to endure. He much prefers it when the gun-toting lunatic is on _his_ side.

 

“I got held up.” Bond finishes slicing through the ropes, casually punching out one of the guards who was unwise enough to get up with his free hand. Oh yes, Q _much_ prefers it when things go like this. “Traffic jam.”

 

“Remind me to sign you up for a defensive driving course one of these days,” Q says, standing up and rubbing the circulation back into his wrists. His abductors are all either dead or unconscious on the floor around them, and Q surveys them with a curl of disgust. “Right after I finish wiping this lot off the map.”

 

Bond grins, the tooth-baring, feral-cat grin that Q is familiar with largely from the other side of a CCTV screen. “I can take care of that for you.”

 

Q should probably feel guilty for inflicting a crazed double-0 agent on the unsuspecting members of London’s criminal underworld, but his wrists really do hurt, so he’s not exactly inclined to be merciful. He waves a hand. “Have at it.”

 

The thing is, his relationship with Bond isn’t exactly the most conventional. Later, when they’re back in his apartment – when Bond has _broken into_ his apartment, for the umpteenth time – there will be time for sentimentality: Bond will peel off his clothing piece by piece and check the skin underneath for injuries, press kisses to his bruises and promise to protect him with his very last breath. Not in so many words, of course. But the thought will be there.

 

Now, though, they’re on company time, and Q doesn’t waste time wishing Bond could sweep him into his arms and kiss the trembling out of his abused limbs, or do things that would make him forget that he’d just been threatened within an inch of his life. Well, all right. Perhaps he does take a minute, while Bond is beating his kidnappers into a bloody and unnecessary pulp behind him. Fortunately, Q is the master of multi-tasking, and is perfectly capable of disabling the alarm system and getting them both a free pass the hell out of here while also picturing his super-spy boyfriend naked. He’s clever that way.

 

Bond dispatches the last villain with a satisfied grunt, and Q reflects that this is not unlike sexual intercourse in its basic elements. It’s still a primal need.

 

“Are you done?” He doesn’t turn around.

 

“More or less.” Bond barely sounds winded. “If we had time, I’d love to torture a couple of them just for fun, but I’m guessing that reinforcements will already be on their way.”

 

“You guess correctly,” Q says, the faintest trace of regret in his voice. “Best that we’re not here when they arrive, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

Bond makes a sound of reluctance, then sighs. “You spoil all my fun, Quartermaster.”

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Q says, and they’re off.


End file.
